I entered the exam room as an intravenous catheter was being inserted expertly. The procedure had been explained to me. I wanted to be there to comfort my friend in his last moments. Life had been getting difficult and the infirmities and pain too severe. The doctor entered the room with an appropriate look of sympathy on his face and reviewed the case agreeing that my friend’s quality of life was severely impaired.
The sodium pentothal was slowly injected IV. I saw a questioning look on my friend’s face, he then slumped to the table and died. Being unconscious, his breathing almost immediately stopped, then the heart beat ceased a few minutes later. It seemed so fast.
I loved my friend, my companion, my dog. We walked in the park or on the beach every morning. He greeted me, my wife, my children, and my grandchildren each day like long lost friends. His goal in the yard (thus in life) was to be protective seemingly at all costs.
Today we grieve, but not like when I lost my mother or father, or when I lost a patient. It’s a mixture of sadness for our loss, but contentment that he didn’t suffer and could have a peaceful end.
Many patients over the years asked me for a peaceful painless end. Before hospice and palliative care, a patient would often sense abandonment or a loss of control at the end saying, “Doctor, my dog was treated more humanely at the end than my father was.” Ironically, my experience today has brought me to question how humane we humans really are in our treatment of each other at the end. Do we have lessons to learn?
Yes, I too believe we treat animals more compassionately than humans at the end of our lives, especially in particularly difficult circumstances. Sometimes a peaceful exit guided by the ill patient is really the humane and compassionate way to end a life. Albeit performed by thinking people who have given deep thought and insight into complicated (physical or otherwise) situations. No one can presume what another deals with, even within the same disease there are many gradations of disease, of intolerance, for instance. I believe the taking of one’s life should be one’s personal choice after important conversations with doctors, family members, friends, take place, and the patient decides that the concept of hope is no longer.
My sympathies are with you and your family, Jim. The wonderful memories of this fine pet, friend, and member of the family will carry you through the pain you are sharing with us, your readers.
It’s so good to read another’s comment, whether I agree with it or not, but with which I happen to wholeheartedly agree. Rationally too!
Don’t mean to talk too much. It’s just such a rare opportunity to hear anyone speak publicly about how we and those dear to us die.
Many thanks!